The message briefly outlined an organized attack by unknown Orks and clearly pointed out a potential conspiracy behind it.
Archmagos Vox's response was unusually swift.
The communication was connected almost the instant the request was sent, which itself indicated Neksum's high regard for Osiris and his project.
"Situation understood, Magos Osiris," Archmagos Vox's voice, mixed with mechanical static, came through, his tone grave. "Hold on, reinforcements have been mobilized immediately. Two full Macro-Branch Adeptus Ministorum Troops, and..." He paused slightly, emphasizing the next part, "A titan battlegroup from the Steel Dogs Chapter will accompany the Adeptus Ministorum Troops and proceed to your location at maximum speed."
A titan battlegroup! This far exceeded the conventional force needed to counter a small-scale Ork attack.
Archmagos Vox's action was not only a full guarantee for Osiris, a crucial collaborator and "Ancient STC contributor," but also an unyielding, forceful declaration to the hidden mastermind behind the scenes, and indeed to all galactic forces coveting this location, demonstrating the Neksum Forge World's resolve and power.
Any threat against Osiris and his research would be considered a direct provocation to Neksum and would invite a devastating response.
"Reinforcements are expected to arrive in your star system's orbit in seventy-eight standard hours," Archmagos Vox added finally. "During this period, ensuring your safety and that of the core project is the highest priority."
The communication ended.
Osiris incorporated the new timeline into his operational plan.
With the promise of such substantial reinforcements, the current Ork threat seemed even more insignificant.
However, his vigilance escalated to the highest level.
The force capable of orchestrating such a precise Ork assault was certainly not ordinary.
He allocated more computational power, beginning a full-scale analysis to trace the last trajectories of those Ork meteorites before they entered the planet's orbit, attempting to find clues of the hidden enemy from the background radiation and gravitational disturbances in the stellar sea.
The true storm, perhaps, had only just begun to brew.
—
Just as Osiris' Death World Base was under heavy assault from Orks, Sigismund and his Black Templars fleet encountered unexpected obstacles in the Warp.
The normally stable Warp lane suddenly became turbulent, with surging energy currents and materialized whispers of malice forming a deadly storm, tearing at the ships' Gellar Fields.
The massive hull of the eternal crusade vibrated violently in the energy turbulence, and alarms blared throughout the bridge.
"Grand Marshal! Gellar Field overload has reached critical! We must exit the Warp immediately!" The astropath's voice was distorted with pain, his third eye enduring unimaginable pressure.
Sigismund ordered without hesitation: "All ships, emergency exit! Set coordinates for the nearest real-space sector!"
The fleet painstakingly tore through the boundary between reality and the void, stumbling back into the material universe.
However, what awaited them was not a calm void—
The moment they exited the Warp, sensors suddenly flooded with numerous friend-or-foe identification signals.
A vast fleet, radiating decay and death, had been waiting there for a long time.
The hulls of these ships were covered with pockmark-like turrets, green slime constantly oozed from the armor seams, and a sickly green light flickered within the portholes.
The faded but still discernible emblem on the hull proclaimed their identity: Death Guard.
"Mortarion's dogs!" roared a Black Templar warrior, his hand already on his sword hilt.
The traitor fleet did not hesitate for a moment.
The instant the Black Templars fleet completed its exit, dense macro-cannon fire and laser beams already tore through the void, raining down upon them.
Several corrosive torpedoes, trailing green wakes, struck a frigate on the fleet's flank first.
The warship's Void Shield rapidly disintegrated before the eerie corrosion, and its armor plates dissolved like rotting flesh, quickly exploding into a foul-smelling fireball in space.
"All hands to battle! For the Emperor!" Sigismund's voice echoed through the flagship's internal comms. "The appearance of these traitors and the Warp storm is no coincidence; they are preventing us from reaching the Death World."
The massive hull of the eternal crusade began to turn, its broadside weapon arrays lighting up.
As a Gloriana-class battleship, it possessed firepower capable of rivaling a small fleet.
When its first volley roared out of the gun barrels, the entire void trembled.
A massive Lance beam directly pierced the midsection of a Death Guard cruiser, triggering a series of secondary explosions.
But the Death Guard fleet was also not to be underestimated.
Their Nurgle-blessed ships displayed astonishing resilience; even heavily damaged, they could continue to fight.
Green pus-turrets continuously spewed corrosive energy orbs, adhering to the Black Templars' ships' Void Shields, persistently weakening their defenses.
A brutal void battle thus erupted.
Lasers crisscrossed, torpedoes flew, and explosions continuously flashed in the cold universe.
Sigismund stood on the bridge, his expression grave.
He clearly realized that some hidden mastermind was willing to use the power of Chaos to prevent his meeting with Osiris.
"Send an encrypted message to the Death World," Sigismund ordered the communications officer. "Inform Magos Osiris that we have encountered traitor interception and will be delayed. At the same time..." He looked out the viewport at the continuously approaching Death Guard ships, clenching his fist. "Request him to hold on, no matter what."
Sigismund gazed at the decaying traitor warships outside the viewport, a cold fury burning in his eyes.
He unclasped his clenched fist and steadily drew the power sword from his waist, the blade glowing with an ethereal blue light as it hummed to life.
"Prepare boarding torpedoes," his voice, filled with unyielding resolve, echoed through the entire flagship. "Templar Knights, follow me aboard. It's time to let these blasphemous traitors personally experience the Emperor's wrath."
He chose not to continue commanding this war of attrition remotely from the bridge.
Against these tenacious Death Guard traitors, the most effective method was to strike at the heart, tearing apart their command core with power swords and bolters.
The glory of the Black Templars was always forged in close-quarters combat.
The eternal crusade's side armor slowly opened, and several menacing boarding torpedoes, like drawn swords, carved deadly trajectories through the void, accurately striking the Death Guard fleet's flagship—a battered but still massive Plague Cruiser.
The torpedoes, carrying Sigismund and the most elite Templar Knights, plunged into the traitor warship's decaying armor like scorching daggers.
The moment of successful docking, the hatch burst open.
"For the Emperor! For Dorn!"
Sigismund's battle cry was like thunder, and he was the first to charge out of the torpedo bay.
His power sword carved a deadly arc, instantly cleaving two Death Guard, armor and all, who had rushed to meet him.
Rotten bodily fluids and twisted metal splattered everywhere, but none could touch him.
Behind him, the Templar Knights surged out like a tide, the roar of boltguns and the hum of power weapons instantly filling the narrow corridor.
They formed a tight formation, with Sigismund as the spearhead, steadfastly pushing towards the bridge.
Every swing of the sword, every shot, carried the utmost hatred for the traitors and the most fervent faith in the Emperor.
Sigismund's objective was clear—to find the ship's commander, the traitor hiding in the putrid bridge, and use his head to declare that the will of the Black Templars could not be obstructed.
He had to end this battle quickly; Osiris on the Death World was still awaiting reinforcements.
Any entity attempting to hinder this meeting, whether Orks or Chaos traitors, would turn to dust beneath his sword.